


Auld Lang Syne

by DropsOfAutumn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boys In Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, New Year's Party, and general mention of Christmas, and reinwolf-Kosmo, beware: ugly Christmas sweater, first rule about s8: We don't talk about S8, mentions of Santa Shiro, soft, squint and you miss Allurance, there is no season 8, there's a proposal hidden in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:35:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22144969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DropsOfAutumn/pseuds/DropsOfAutumn
Summary: “Happy New Year, Keith.” Shiro’s words are whispered against Keith‘s shoulder, soft, full of love.“Happy New Year, Shiro.”He brings his mug back to his lips as Shiro’s grip on his hips tightens.It feels like a dream, spending New Year’s Eve in the embrace of the man he has been in love with for as long as he could think, being able to call Shiro his boyfriend.Heck, he even got a New Year’s kiss.--Or: The one in which Keith and Shiro sway into the New Year.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 77





	Auld Lang Syne

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year!
> 
> Written for [Infie/Kaien](https://twitter.com/existence_proof) as a gift for our Discord Server Christmas Season Exchange ♡ I really hope you like my take on your prompts.
> 
> I had so much fun with the prompts "Winter getaway", "Sheith playing in the snow", "Cuddling in front of the fireplace" and basically Sheith being in love.  
> This piece ignores any existence of Season 8 or the epilogue and is set after the war is won and everyone finally can take a break to celebrate the New Year. 
> 
> Biggest thank you to [LaLionne/otayuriistheliteralbest ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/otayuriistheliteralbest/) for reading over this and for coming up Banana-Shiro who has to be peeled out of his ugly Christmas sweater.

When everyone has gone to bed, what remains are streamers, a mess of leftovers scattered over several tables and Kosmo, curled up on the couch and snoring loudly.    


The floor is filled with confetti and Keith has to take care not to stumble over two empty bottles rolling on the floor. Subtle tones of music play in the background – a stark contrast to the loud and rhythmic songs Lance had bawled along to just hours earlier before Coran had gotten ahold of the playlist and played some Arusian folk music that had Pidge throw up her arms in protest.

Keith’s gaze focuses on the fire crackling in the fireplace Lance had pressed for (and Atlas had been happy to deliver, Shiro had explained with a wink), the flickering warmth welcome and easing, making him calm down and breathe for the first time since the other Paladins had shown up at the door to Shiro’s quarters hours prior, drinks in one hand, food in the other, putting a party hat on Shiro and a six pack of beer (the nonalcoholic kind – after what they would always refer to as ‘the great karaoke catastrophe’ nobody wanted to hand alcohol to the Alteans ever again, and Pidge was still underage) in Keith’s arms. They immediately planted themselves on the sofas (or sprawling on the floor in Pidge’s case, alternating between burying her face in Kosmo’s fur and feeding him snacks), Hunk being in charge of the food and Lance eyeing the playlist while loudly explaining New Year’s traditions to Allura. 

Coran had chimed in at one point, telling them all about the Farvorian custom to hide a stone in the traditional New Year’s soup and whoever broke a tooth on the stone was deemed lucky for the coming year; and Romelle joined him by explaining how the Alteans in her village would make predictions for the next circle by reading the shape of melted scaultrite. 

Ignoring the fact that Christmas was over, Shiro was wearing the ugliest Christmas sweater that left Keith pretty sure that it was the flute of champagne that had his cheeks feeling warm and not the sight of his boyfriend wearing a reindeer sweater that was arguably a size too small. It was a result of Shiro wailing over the fact that there were not enough days of the year to enjoy the coziness Christmas sweaters. The party hat on his head seemed out of place, but Shiro was wearing it with grace. 

Their mismatched group was quite a sight, with everyone huddled up near the fireplace, Romelle sprawled over Hunk to reach for snacks, and Pidge leaning against Lance’s legs who was in turn pressed against Allura’s side, his arm wrapped around his girlfriend who was hanging on Coran’s every word. Shiro had found a spot on an additional chair and it had brought a healthy tint of red to Keith’s cheeks when he had been pulled down to sit on Shiro’s lap, his boyfriend’s strong arm circling around his waist the second he sat down. 

The company felt like home.   
  


It was a silent agreement that all of them had seen enough explosions in the vastness of space to never feel the urge to see fireworks up close again, and Keith had to admit that he preferred spending the evening together with his friends, enjoying the warmth of the fireplace and sharing drinks and stories while throwing confetti to joining the rest of the Garrison, scaring away ghosts and celebrating the new year nobody had dared to hope for just a couple of months ago. 

Keith did not want to admit he was grateful for Lance keeping thoughts about the end of the war from bubbling to the surface by filling his glass for the New Year’s toast. Still, he nodded at him while Lance opened the bottle of nonalcoholic sparkling wine and Shiro started to count down the seconds. 

And as soon as the clock struck midnight, the room erupted into streamers and voices yelling, “Happy New Year!” and Keith’s vision blurred when he found himself in Shiro’s embrace, lips that tasted like champagne on his. 

It still warms Keith cheek to think of the whistling Hunk aimed in their direction before Pidge made a vomiting sound at Lance who seemed to be a bit too competitive, still kissing Allura long and passionate while throwing sideway glances in the direction of Shiro and Keith. Keith did not mind at all, not with Shiro’s strong arms around his waist. 

“Want a New Year’s kiss, too, for good luck, Kosmo?” Keith could only roll his eyes at Pidge’s pursed lips, making a kissy face at the wolf. He knew his space wolf too well not to anticipate his reaction. Still, he joined in as the room erupted into laughter when Kosmo gave Pidge’s face a healthy and wet lick.    
  
“Be careful what you wish for,” he explained while his fingers delved into the fabric of Shiro’s reindeer sweater and Shiro’s laughter rumbled against his chest. 

Pidge’s grumbling still rings in his ears, even now, hours later, long after she has fallen asleep curled into the wolf’s side, sleepily mumbling, “I forgive you,” into the fur. 

Her words come to his mind, big announcements of her planned all-nighter. ‘It will be a breeze,” she had declared, rolling her eyes and waving Lance off. It was Hunk who lifted her up two hours after midnight, promising to tuck her into bed. 

The cocoa in Keith’s hands is steaming and the warmth is enough to let sleepiness sweep into his limbs. It’s way past their usual bedtime and he dreads the wake-up call looming in the near future as he catches himself wondering if trying to chase sleep will even be worth it.

Envious of Pidge’s ability to fall asleep everywhere, Keith can feel a smile form on his lips where they are pressed against the rim of his cup. He sends a silent prayer to the cocoa to make him fall asleep faster, just to catch at least a few hours of much-needed rest. Sleep had never been his friend before, anyway.   
  
Keith remembers sleepless nights in the desert, tossing on his thin excuse of a mattress before he decided to simply stop chasing sleep in order to search for the source of mysterious readings. He also remembers waking up on his sofa with his back aching and his limbs tingling with pins and needles, a crumbled piece of paper pressed against his cheek, a worn polaroid picture in his hand the morning his chase should end, the day Shiro crash-landed in the desert and a robot lion changed their lives forever. 

Afterwards, it was sleepless nights on an alien spaceship in an artificial sleep-circle, where every night could have been their last. He would still prefer those nights to the ones where they landed on foreign planets and he spent the night clutching the knife underneath his pillow while listening to Lance’s snoring. Or to the times he had to bunk in a small Blade cruiser on a mission that left them with nothing but a hard floor and stale bread for weeks. Black’s built-in cot and the first real mattress after two years of hard ground on the space whale sounded like heaven, but it was Shiro who needed the bed most, Shiro who came first. 

Shiro, who always comes first.  
  


Shiro, who, after the war was over, tugged him into his arms, his bed, his heart, making Keith’s heart race and his palms sweat, making Keith see stars and galaxies explode when he spoke words Keith had never dared to wish for against his lips, his cheek, his temple. It was Shiro who whispered sweet nothings into his hair  _ after _ , when they were hidden underneath blankets, before letting Keith’s head rest on his chest, where the soft heartbeat rocked Keith to sleep for the first time in forever, his veins singing, ‘Home, home, finally home,’ in the rhythm of Shiro’s calming breath. 

And as Keith can feel his cheeks heat up at the thoughts of sneaking into Shiro’s bed later, drunk on cocoa and love, he blames it on the hot drink and not on the fact that he still has to get used to falling asleep next to Shiro and waking up in his arms, still has to get used to being allowed to marvel at Shiro’s features tinted in soft morning hues and let his fingers wander over his face, tracing Shiro’s scar along the way.

The year has been wild, for all of them. 

Keith’s thoughts are interrupted as strong hands circle his hips and soft lips ghost against his neck, leaving a trail of kisses, humming along to the music in the background. 

Even if it wasn’t for the fact that the others had long gone, Keith would still recognize the hands on his hip as Shiro’s. 

It was these hands that had pulled him into a supportive embrace thousands of times before. It was these hands that had worshipped his body just a night ago. It was one of these hands Keith held on to as they fell into the unknown, fully prepared to let the universe go down for the sake of saving Shiro. 

“Happy New Year, Keith.” Shiro’s words pull him out of his thoughts. They are whispered against his shoulder, soft, full of love, and Keith smiles. 

“Happy New Year, Shiro.” He brings his mug back to his lips as Shiro’s grip on his hips tightens, and with a careful press starts to tenderly move him along to the music in the background.

Keith finds himself catch his breath as he tightens the fingers around his mug. It feels like a dream, spending New Year’s Eve in Shiro’s quarters, in the embrace of the man he has been in love with for as long as he could think, being able to call Shiro his boyfriend. 

Heck, he even got a New Year’s kiss from him.

It’s corny, the way Shiro hums against his shoulder, the way he sways them both in soft circles, slow dancing on the spot while the fire crackles in the background. He might have to thank Lance for the tacky idea to add the fireplace. 

Later, tomorrow, in case he should ever get tired of Shiro’s arms around him, filling him with a comfort that is so much better than any warmth hot cocoa could provide.

Shiro’s embrace is home, his lips against his skin are his sanctuary, the rumble in Shiro’s chest Keith feels where their bodies are pressed together is a haven. 

Wishing they could stay like this forever, Keith is sure he will wake up from this dream any minute. 

But instead of waking up, the music in the background changes and Keith pays attention to the lyrics for the first time – it’s hard to ignore them when Shiro sings them against his skin. A soft chuckle escapes his lips when he recognizes what is unmistakably the first verse of  _ White Christmas. _

“Hey babe,” he huffs against his mug, the endearment rolling form his lips still so new, it’s devastating how he is allowed to call Shiro like this so casually. How easy it feels. How right. “Christmas is over.”    
  
Shiro’s hair tickles where his bangs touch Keith’s neck. Resting his forehead on Keith’s shoulder, Keith can feel how he lightly shakes his head. “Shhh. I missed at least five Christmases on Earth. Let me have this.”  
  
The corners of his mouth lift at the realization of how much of a child at heart his boyfriend is. He still remembers the sparkle in Shiro’s eyes as he unwrapped his gift on Christmas morning. It wasn’t much, not when earth is still struggling to crawl out of the pit the Galra invasion had left it in. Not when Keith is the worst when it comes to gifting any presents that are personal or useful. 

Still, Shiro started wearing the Luxite pendant around his neck, underneath his admiral uniform, hidden from plain sight and only for Keith to know. Even now Keith can feel it underneath the ugly sweater, pressed against his shoulder blade. 

“What’s the big deal about Christmas, anyway?” Keith wonders out loud. He regrets the words as soon as they’re out, but he knows it’s no use trying to keep Shiro from worrying.

“Keith...” Shiro whispers, his tone too familiar for Keith to miss the persistency. 

It’s best to wave it off, so Keith tries to shake his head, tries to make Shiro stop worrying. “I just... don’t have the best Christmas memories.” 

Growing up in the desert with his mother not in the picture, Keith had hardly experienced what other kids would call a normal Christmas. There was no Santa, no snow in sight and definitely not a big mountain of presents underneath a fir tree. Still, his dad had tried his best to bring some kind of Christmas spirit into their small hut, decorating a cactus with colored strings of lights, carving wooden animals for Keith to play with and driving his son to sing Christmas carols at the firehouse, even letting him sit in front of the truck on their way there.   
  
‘But don’t tell anyone, it’s our secret’, his father had whispered as he playfully tugged at the Christmas hat Keith was wearing even though it was too big, slipping over Keith’s ears every couple of minutes.   
  
It had been nice while it lasted, and no Christmas with his foster families could compare to the holidays with his dad. It’s still a blur to him, he only remembers too much food, too many decorations, too many faked smiles. And when he realized that no mountain of presents could bring back decorated Christmas succulents and off-tune Christmas carols, Keith had come to resent Christmas. 

So having Shiro beam at anything that has the word Christmas in it is something new. Something that he still has to get used to, something not even Shiro could change overnight. He promised to get better though, promised not to frown when Shiro insisted on a small Christmas tree in his quarters and exchanging presents. 

Still, it’s a long road.

One that gets a little easier to walk anytime Shiro smiles at him in a reindeer sweater, anytime Shiro mumbles Christmas carols against his skin. 

Just like now. When Shiro’s lips leave the softest kisses where they ghost over Keith’s shoulder, his breath sending a shiver down Keith’s spine, making his fingertips tingle. 

“I wish I could give you the best Christmas,” Shiro explains, his words husky, short of a whisper as if only meant for Keith’s ears to hear. They are alone in the room, and still Shiro manages to make this moment between them feel even more intimate just by breathing against Keith’s skin before he adds, “You deserve it.” 

And Keith knows he means it. Shiro’s not a man for big words and fake promises. Coming from Shiro, the promise feels sincere. Determined.    
  
“One of these years, I’ll kidnap you and fly us both north, so you’ll experience a white Christmas. It will be just the two of us, in a hut in the mountains, not a soul around, snow everywhere.” He knows Shiro wants to be romantic, sappy even, but Keith shivers at the thought of being alone. His life in the desert had left him with no intention of visiting places where he was more likely to get a freeze burn than a sunstroke. 

“Do you want us to freeze to death?” 

Shiro’s laughter vibrates against his shoulder blade. “Don’t ruin the mood.” He is smiling, Keith can feel the corners of Shiro’s mouth drawing upwards as he leaves a kiss on Keith’s neck before resting his chin on Keith’s shoulder, his words against Keith’s ear softer, dreamy even. 

“Just imagine. Walking through the snow, just the two of us,” Shiro explains and Kosmo huffs gently in his sleep. And, to be honest, even if the thoughts of freezing temperatures and wet shoes were a deterrent at first, Keith feels the warmth bloom in his chest as he thinks about Shiro’s hand in his as they walk through a quiet landscape, as he thinks about Shiro’s cheeks all red from the cold, as he thinks of Shiro’s tight embrace while enveloping him in front of a real fireplace, not a holographic one. 

And Keith knows he can’t blame it on the non-alcoholic booze from earlier that he feels a bit dizzy on how much he loves the thought. On how much he loves Shiro. 

The silence feels nice, loaded with thoughts of winter nights spent together, and Shiro’s gentle hum as he shifts his hands from Keith’s hips, his arms wrapping around Keith’s waist in one smooth move. It makes Keith’s fingers around his mug twitch and he has to take a big gulp from his cocoa to hide how his cheek warm up.

So he does his best to conceal being flustered with humor. “You know, beating you in a snowball fight sounds really appealing.” 

The thought definitely  _ is _ appealing. Keith knows both of them have a way too competitive streak, so they would be chasing each other through the snow in no time. 

Where Shiro is all broad moves, Keith is swift and elegant, even in a snowball fight in the mountains, and he could already see the scene play out in his mind. Catching Shiro off guard. Pressing wet snow into the neck of a surprised Shiro. Making Shiro stumble and lose his balance, sending them both falling to the ground. 

Keith is sure Shiro would look amazing underneath him, surrounded by snow, cheeks pink and snow crystals in his hair, red lips too inviting not to lean down and kiss. 

“Oh, someone’s confident.” Shiro’s voice pulling him out of his thoughts, his words against his ear full and deep, tinted with amusement and a challenge, will always be his favourite.   
  
“Please, I would totally own you.” Keith knows Shiro can’t see the grin on his lips, but he is sure Shiro can feel it, the way their cheeks are touching. The arm around his waist curling him a bit tighter to his boyfriend tells him as much. 

“Using Kosmo would be cheating.” Keith laughs at Shiro’s words and sees the wolf crack an eye open at the mention of his name, before rolling back into the sofa that must still be warm from where Romelle had snuggled into the pillows earlier. The wolf sure would love zooming through the snow and trying to eat falling snowflakes, before curling up in front of a fireplace. 

Pictures of their winter getaway start forming clearly in his head. 

It feels nice to dream.  
  
  
“Would you rather spend Christmas here?” Shiro asks and Keith knows he tries to lift the pressure from him, to offer an alternative to freezing. Shiro’s a treasure, always caring about him. He doesn’t deserve such kindness, Keith thinks for the umpteenth time since the moment Shiro had stumbled over his words on one of their hoverbike dates-not-dates, since the moment he felt Shiro’s lips on his in their very first kiss.    
  
“And listen to Aunty Pidge explain how Santa cannot physically be real while Lance tries to shut her up because he wants his kids to believe in Santa?” The thought alone is enough to make him chuckle as he breaks away from the warmth of Shiro’s arms for a second and places his empty cup on the coffee table. 

As much as he hates to interrupt their swaying, Keith misses being able to kiss his boyfriend. The smile on Shiro’s lips as he turns around is too tempting to resist, so Keith simply raises himself to his tiptoes and presses a short kiss to Shiro’s lips.   
  
“Just imagine, Lance and Allura making me dress up as Santa for their little mob of daughters.” The image of Shiro in a Santa Claus costume is a weird mixture of adorable and hot at the same time, Keith has to admit, and he can’t see anything wrong with that. Shiro would totally rock that beard. If the costume were spanning his broad chest, it would be a welcomed bonus. 

“The kids will swoon over Santa Shiro,” Keith explains as he delves his fingers into the reindeer sweater. Was it weird to feel jealous of a group of fictional girls sitting on Santa Shiro’s lap while he had to watch? 

“Ooh, will they?” Shiro asks, a bit too curious, and Keith can hear the teasing in his words. He knows exactly what Shiro wants to hear.   
  
“Yeah, talking from experience, trust me.” The smile on Keith’s lips is smug, just as the tone of his voice. Apparently, it’s also really inviting for Shiro to bend down and kiss him.  
  
“So what are you? Mrs. Claus?” A laugh escapes Keith at Shiro’s words. The thought alone was crazy. 

“Or an elf,” he suggests, but backtracks immediately. “On the other hand, Lance would never let me live it down if you dressed me up as your elf.” Keith is sure his face does something weird when he thinks about Lance’s complacent grin.   
  
“Babe.” The smile on Shiro’s lips gets even brighter, telling Keith about the looming suggestion before the words are spoken. “Kosmo would draw our sleigh! Give him antlers and he’s a rein-wolf.” 

Keith has to laugh at Shiro’s explanation. Kosmo would draw their sleigh. For a short distance. And then be fed up and teleport away or simply lay down and sleep. Sometimes Shiro really underestimated exactly how lazy the space wolf can be when no treats are involved. 

Still, the image of Shiro in a red Santa Claus costume can’t be erased from his mind. It’s surprising how he’s not even ashamed to whisper the next words, but Shiro brings out the best side of him. Or the dirtiest. 

“Want to know what’s even better than seeing you as Santa?” His voice is darker, husky, and Keith hopes he can convey the mysterious, flirty tone he aims for. The way Shiro’s eyebrows furrow tells him he’s successful. 

So he bends forward, lifts himself on the tips of his toes to reach Shiro’s ear, whispering the words as suggestively as possible. “Knowing I get to unwrap Santa from his costume at the end of the night..”

He’s imagined Shiro blushing furiously, stumbling over his words, maybe burying his face in his hands and telling him, ‘You can’t just say these things, Keith!’ all flustered and ashamed.

What Keith has not imagined is the equally smug grin on Shiro’s face, one eyebrow raised suspiciously, as he explains, “Oh babe, I would make you sit on my lap all night.”

The words go directly down his spine, Shiro’s promise makes his whole body ache with anticipation, his fingers not the only thing twitching at the thought Shiro’s idea invoked. So Keith decides to play along, his voice a sing-song more than anything. “Santa, have I been good this year?”

“No baby, you’re on my naughty list. And I can think of a good way to punish you.”

And it would be sexy, would make Keith long to peel Shiro out of his ugly sweater here and now – had they not been talking about a Santa costume and Kosmo wearing antlers two minutes earlier. And Keith simply can’t keep himself from laughing out loud. 

“Shiro, that’s cheesy,” Keith huffs out between laughter, leaning his face against Shiro’s chest to hide his face. It’s a mistake, he notices, as Shiro’s ribcage vibrates as he bursts into a loud, “Ho, ho, ho.” 

Yeah, it’s official, Shiro’s the cheesiest boyfriend. Though he’s not sure if it’s blessing or curse. So Keith lifts his head and rolls his eyes at him. “That’s it? Oh come on, I know you can do better.”   
  
“You want to help me practice my Ho, Ho, Hos?” Shiro’s eyebrow lifts invitingly and he looks so complacent, Keith wants to kiss the smile from his lips. 

Instead, they share a laugh before they fall into silence.

The good kind of silence. The one where they are getting lost in each other’s eyes. The one Keith loves. 

And Shiro pulls him closer, makes him press his face against the antlers of the reindeer on his sweater, makes his arms wrap around Shiro’s back. 

“I love you,” Shiro whispers against his hair and it fills Keith with warmth, makes him want to shout out loud how much he loves this man. 

He nods instead, not wanting to break the charm of the moment, not when Shiro has started swaying them to the rhythm of what Keith recognizes to be  _ Auld Lang Syne  _ in the background, not when Shiro hums along to the lyrics soft and deep.

It feels safe, it feels like home. 

And all that matters is Shiro.  
  


Their swaying makes Keith want to combust on the spot, he’s sure his body is not big enough for all the love swelling underneath his skin, leaving him tingling and warm all over.   
  
“You want that? Five years from now?” It’s Keith who breaks their silence, mumbling words against Shiro’s sweater because there is no way he really deserves all of this. Because there’s still a small part of him that will forever doubt he’s deserving the love Shiro throws his way. “Dressing up as Santa for Lance’s kids? Staying with me?”   
  
“Keith. Babe.” The endearment makes his toes curl. “Believe me, I want forever with you.”    


Keith can’t answer, can’t look him in the eyes, not with his fingers curling into Shiro’s back, not when he inhales Shiro’s calming scent with how close he’s pressed against his chest. Not when Shiro’s words shatter him with their certainty. 

He does not have to answer, because it’s Shiro who starts talking again, nearly stumbling over his words. “I know, we’ve only started dating. Can we even call it dating? Keith, I haven’t even taken you out on a proper date yet.” Keith nods reassuringly, knowing Shiro can feel it. He is pretty sure he doesn’t need a date to know he wants to spend the rest of his life with this man he crossed the universe and jumped to death for.   


“I’m doing it all wrong, but…” The pure distress Shiro suddenly radiates is alarming, making Keith pull back his head and find Shiro’s eyes with his. “I promise, there’s a ring.”   
  
“A ring?” Keith can’t help but furrow his brows as the swaying stops.   
  
“Ah.. yes?” As Shiro lifts his hand to scratch his cheek, obviously flustered, Keith huffs at the sudden loss of pressure from their embrace. Still, he can not believe Shiro’s words. Leave it to him to drop something important on a side note. 

“You got me a ring?” His heart beats faster as he blinks at Shiro, eyes wide and surprised, reading discomfort on Shiro’s face who tries to look anywhere but at Keith.    
  
“Yes, yes, I know, what was I thinking? You’re not even a ring person. It probably won’t even fit. I thought about asking you at midnight, but all the others were there and you’re more of a private person, so I chickened out and didn’t bring it, it’s still in my office and…”   
  
“Shiro,” Keith tries to stop the rambling. Sure Shiro will be grateful for him stopping him from saying things he might regret. “Shiro, I don’t need a ring.”   


Because he  _ really _ doesn’t need a ring. Or a three-layered cake. Or a fancy reception. 

All he needs is Shiro.

“You… what?” The distress on Shiro’s face turns into surprise, as he finally looks Keith in the eyes again.    
  
“Shiro,” Keith speaks, gentle, sincere. “Yes.”   
  
He hopes he can convey all the love that is threatening his chest from bursting. Shiro’s face in utter surprise tells him he failed. “Yes, what?”    
  
“You’ll have me, Shiro.” Keith’s gaze softens as he brings his fingers to cup Shiro’s jaw, his thumb softly grazing Shiro’s cheekbone. The words come so easily to him. He’s always carried them in his heart, like his undying love for Shiro is just as much a fact as water was wet. 

“If you want me, you’ll have me forever.” 

“Keith, I…” He doesn’t let Shiro finish though, not when the distance between them is still too great, not when he longs for those lips to capture his.

Kissing Shiro is breathtaking, even after so many times. The way their bodies slide together, fitting like a puzzle, the way Shiro’s hands find their way into Keith’s hair, the way Keith can’t keep the gasp from leaving his mouth as Shiro’s tongue slides over his lips. 

If this is forever with Shiro, Keith wants it with every cell of his body.

Shiro’s prosthetic hand, the one that is not tangled in his hair, slides him closer, closing the last inches of air between them, slightly rocking his hips to the subtle song in the background that sings about leaving the old year behind.  
  


And as they sway into the new year like this, Keith decides that, yes, he’s really looking forward to this forever with Shiro.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> I'll try my best to reply to comments and would love to hear what you think!
> 
> I'm a rambling mess on [Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/dropsofautumn) so follow me if you like ♡


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